


The Aftermath

by DarkMoonMaiden



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Drinking, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 02:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14906874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkMoonMaiden/pseuds/DarkMoonMaiden
Summary: Businesses were closed, NYC was unbelievably empty, and May had no idea where Peter was.





	The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Here's some angst I needed to get out of my system lol. It's not super edited, so apologies for any mistakes :c

Tony had come to her himself.

The whole world was in chaos, and the death toll kept rising and rising and rising. No one seemed to know the exact cause, but had been able to connect the dots that it had something to do with the Avengers. A representative of Wakanda stepped forward and explained the situation to the best of her ability, but it did little to appease nor satisfy anyone. 

Businesses were closed, NYC was unbelievably empty, and May had no idea where Peter was.

He had called her before he left to go...wherever, but she’d been working and missed the call. When she found out about the floating fucking alien ship that had been over the sky, she knew Peter would have something to do with it, and saw that she’d only missed his call by minutes, yet he’d left a message. But when she called him back, it went straight to voicemail. 

His voice was hushed when he spoke on the voicemail, as if he was hiding somewhere, and there was the humming of what might have been a machine in the background.

“ _ Hey, uh, Aunt May. I’m sorry, but there’s some...stuff going on, and I have to help Mr. Stark. It’s--it’s bad, but I’ll be alright, okay? I love you. I’ll come home as soon as I can. _ ”

It had been three days of absolutely mind-numbing terror. May called his phone dozens of times, but each time, she was sent straight to voicemail. When she tried to call Tony, it was only the same. She was going out of her mind, pacing around her apartment and pulling out her hair.

She put his name on the registry of people who were currently missing, but she knew it wouldn’t help much. For every one person that was found it seemed like ten new names would be added. It hurt her too much to scroll through the names, occasionally finding one that she knew, and she deleted all of her social media off of her phone. The amount of grief pouring from the city was overwhelming.

She was nearly at her breaking point when someone knocked on her door. She was sprinting to the door within a second, jumping over the back of the couch and nearly falling in her haste. She yanked open the door, but it wasn’t Peter.

Tony stood in the hallway. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, or changed his clothes in just as long--they still had singes on the sleeves and smudges of dirt. He looked like he’d just returned from a warzone of some kind, and she had the sinking feeling that that was most likely the case.

He stared at her, not saying anything, but the sadness in his eyes said enough. He swallowed and averted his gaze, a hand nervously coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"He's gone, isn't he?"

Tony jerked his head in a nod.

May stared at him, and then slowly closed the door. She managed to make it to the couch before she sat down and started crying.

***

There was no funeral, and the cover story was that he had been one of the millions who had dissipated into dust while going about their daily lives. It wasn’t a lie, but in a way, that hurt more. No one would ever know about the sacrifice Peter made, how hard he’d fought, how he’d willingly put himself in danger on an alien planet to save them all.

But he’d failed. And now he was gone.

In some ways, it was for the best no one found out about his identity. The Avengers were being eaten alive by all of the media and public, who were thirsty for any sort of revenge for the people they lost, and May was happy her Peter’s name wasn’t being tarnished in the same way. In response to the mounting threats, the Avengers were now in hiding, hopefully trying to find a way to make sure this would never happen again. May didn’t particularly care anymore. Peter was gone. The last person she’d cared about in the entire world was gone.

May was too scared to try and reach out to Michelle or Ned. Neither of them had tried to call her, either, and she refused to think about what may have happened to them or their families. She couldn’t. Peter had already broken her, and she couldn’t imagine what the news of anything happening to them would do to her.

In situations like this, Peter would’ve been pushing her to go talk to someone, like a therapist or a close friend. When Ben died, he’d been so attentive to her, parenting her to the best of his ability while she tried to get back on her feet. He wasn’t always the most helpful, of course, but his concerned and loving eyes had always warmed her heart.

But there was no one she could talk to. She was alone.

***

She had to go back to work too soon, and it was nearly impossible. Three-fourths of the staff was...gone...and they couldn’t afford to give time for grief to their other employees.

Her first reaction upon waking up was to go wake up Peter, too. He always slept late, usually because he’d spent half the night swinging around the city. She tried to enforce a strict curfew, but she couldn’t fault him for getting tangled up in one thing or another and needing to stay out later.

“Peter, time to get up,” May called, pulling on her shirt. When there was no response, she rolled her eyes and headed to his room. “Pete, c’mon, you’re gonna be late--”

Her throat closed as her sleep addled brain finally caught up with her. She stood in the doorway to Peter’s bedroom, staring at the untouched clothes strewn on the ground and unmade sheets. There was an unfinished project on his desk, the desk light still on.

It looked like he would come home at any second and pick up everything at any second. Like he’d been gone for only a night, not almost a week.

May slowly closed the door and pressed her forehead against the wood. Taking a few deep breaths, she forced herself to turn away and continue getting ready for the day.

She was able to prioritize her emotions for the majority of the day. All of her sadness was pushed down and she kept her mind blank, refusing to acknowledge anything. One of her coworkers tried to pull her to the side to talk, and she’d menacingly told him to mind his own damn business before turning back to her job. If she thought about it at  _ all _ , she wouldn’t be moving for the rest of the week.

She let herself actually  _ feel _ when she was finally back in her apartment. She kicked off her shoes and beelined for the kitchen, pouring a heaping glass of wine and heading to the living room, bringing the bottle with her. She stared at the blank TV screen, drinking her wine and tears welling in her eyes. The need for some sort of sound in the deadly silent apartment was visceral, and she ended up putting on a television she and Peter had been working their way through. 

She hesitated on the next episode, and ended up going back to the first episode. It felt wrong getting ahead of Peter on what was  _ their _ show.

Biting her lip and sobbing, May refilled her glass and tried to watch the show through blurry vision.

The wine was already hitting her head, but not enough.  She grumbled in annoyance when she saw the bottle was empty and went searching for a fresh one in the kitchen. The one she ended up finding was a bottle that had been gifted to her by Ben, years ago during one of their anniversaries. She’d been saving it for a special occasion, like Peter’s graduation, but after he died, she hadn’t been able to force herself to drink it.

Now, she had no such qualms. She deserved a drink, damn it. Her hands were clumsy and heavy as she tried to uncork the bottle. She ended up dropping the bottle, splashing red wine all over her favorite jeans and across the floor and cabinets.

“ _ Fuck _ !” she screamed at the top of her lungs. She threw her wine glass into the puddle, uncaring about the pieces of glass that went flying. There was already was a mess. What would one a few more shards matter?

The anger faded away and sadness washed over her. She stared down at the puddle creeping around her feet and she burst into tears. She slid down onto her knees, uncaring about the wine as she buried her head in her hands and cried.

That was how Tony found her: sitting in a puddle of wine and glass and crying her eyes out. She didn’t bother asking how he’d gotten in (had she even locked the door? She was usually so good at remembering that).

“Fuck off,” she said brokenly, sniffling and wiping at her face. “I don’ wanna see you right now.”

“You’re crying in a puddle of wine,” he said, raising an eyebrow. 

_ How did he manage to hold so much disdain and sass when he looked ready to start crying, himself? _ May bitterly thought to herself. “I want to be alone.”

Tony heaved a sigh, and much to May’s surprise and vague annoyance he sat down next to her. He made sure he was close enough but not actually touching her, for which she was grateful. She wasn’t necessarily a violent person, but she was in a volatile mood and wouldn’t hesitate to break his nose if he touched her without permission. Seemingly unaware of her thoughts, Tony grimaced at the mess around them.

“Believe it or not, I’ve found myself in a very similar situation, except it was vodka, not wine,” Tony said, flicking a shard of glass away. “And I definitely did not need to be alone at that moment.”

“I  _ really _ don’t think you’ve been in this situation before,  _ Tony _ ,” May said venomously, glaring at him through her tears. 

He blanched, but didn’t deny it. “I would’ve come by earlier, but it wasn’t safe,” he said softly. “There’s a full on manhunt for all of us right now. Most of us are off-planet, on an emergency base.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I--” He stopped talking and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t leave you alone. Peter would’ve chewed me a new one. And...I couldn’t live with myself, if I didn’t at least try to help you. I tried to give you some space, and I figured...you wouldn’t want to see me.”

“Smart move,” she uttered, clumsily trying to clean her glasses on her shirt. She was failing spectacularly, and Tony gently took them from her and did it for her.

“I never wanted to be in this situation,” Tony said. “I was prepared for five hundred different situations but--it didn’t matter. I never wanted to have to be here when he wasn’t, and see-- _ fuck _ .” He kicked the cabinet. “I don’t know how to help you, May. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I told that brat to stay away, but he didn’t listen to me.”

“Yeah, that was never his strong suit,” May mumbled, fumbling to put her glasses back on. She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “As a toddler he was  _ terrible _ . I had to put one of those baby leashes on him when he kept running away.”

That got the desired snicker from Tony, his anger dissipating. “I would’ve loved to see that.”

“I have some pictures somewhere, but…”

She didn’t need to finish her sentence. It was still too soon to reminisce at old pictures of Peter. 

They stayed silent for what felt like hours before May asked the question that had been sitting on the tip of her tongue ever since Tony had first come to her.

“Were--were you there with him?”

She was almost scared of the answer, and Tony’s silence wasn’t helping.

“Yeah, I was,” he answered softly. “I was there the whole time. I held his hand.”

May’s face crumpled in pain, but she didn’t cry. Tony was staring straight ahead, eyes seeing through the cabinets and into something that May couldn’t even begin to imagine. She took a deep breath, but it did nothing to dispel the weight on her chest.

“I’m...I’m glad he wasn’t alone,” she finally whispered brokenly. She leaned her head against his shoulder. 

He froze, but after a moment, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close. She felt more than heard him let out a shuddering breath, some of the tension seeping out of his shoulders.

“Do you think it hurt?” she asked, morbid curiosity getting the best of her.

“No, I don’t think so,” he responded. “It--was really fast.” She didn’t see the way his face scrunched in pain at the lie.

“I’ll fix this,” Tony whispered, leaning over and resting his head on hers. “I don’t know how, but I’ll fix it, I promise.”

She didn’t say anything, letting him whisper broken promises into her hair as he cried. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was no way to fix the situation. There just wasn’t anything he could do to fix it. Nothing anyone could do. 

They stayed like that until the morning, leaning against each other and not talking, save for a few words and whispered apologies. Neither of them were particularly worried about the wine that was starting to dry  on their pants and no doubt staining the floor.

The sun was just starting to rise when Tony stood up. He helped May up to her feet unsteadily, even as she halfheartedly whined that she didn’t want to.

“Go take a shower and get some aspirin,” he ordered, pushing her towards the bathroom. “Nope, you don’t get to complain.”

“When did you become so responsible?” May snorted, a small smile on her mouth as she headed towards the bathroom.

“Well, someone had to step up to the plate. But this is a temporary thing, because I don’t think either of us can stand this for long.”

By the time she came out of the shower, May was sobered up and had the beginnings of a headache. Tony was gone, but on the counter was a glass of water and a flip phone. When she opened the phone, there was only one number saved on it, but no name. Glancing around the island, she saw that the spilled wine and glass had all been cleaned up.

May closed her eyes and took another deep breath, a heavy weight on her chest. There was nothing else she could do besides get ready for her day.

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope you...enjoyed? Believe it or not, this is a lot more toned down than how I originally had it. If you wanna cry with me or chat you can find me on twitter at continuitygains


End file.
